Kitabı oku: «The Bridegroom's Bargain», sayfa 2

Chapter Two

T wo days later Lexi opened her eyes and slowly turned her head. She was in bed, in a room that was quite strange to her, large, luxuriously furnished, with two windows on one side. A collection of bottles and powders was on the table beside the bed, together with a glass and a carafe of water. Beside them was a vase of roses. A bowl of autumn flowers and leaves stood on a handsome chest of drawers between the windows. Lady Honoria was sitting to one side of the window nearer the bed, but when she saw signs of movement she came over.

‘So!’ she said. ‘You’re awake at last.’

‘Where am I?’ Lexi’s voice was a mere thread of sound.

‘Have some water.’ Lady Honoria held a glass to Lexi’s lips. ‘You’re at Channings, of course.’

‘Channings?’ Lexi frowned. Then memory returned, and with a cry of dismay she turned the glass away and struggled to sit up. ‘That’s Richard’s house! I shouldn’t be here.’

Lady Honoria pushed her back. ‘I couldn’t agree with you more!’ she said. ‘But Richard insisted.’

‘He shouldn’t have brought me here. I can’t live with him! It isn’t possible!’

‘You must keep calm. The surgeon says you need complete rest.’

‘But I can’t—’ Lexi turned her head restlessly on the pillow. ‘How long have I been here?’

‘Nearly two days. Richard brought you here straight after the wedding. You collapsed in the vestry after that extraordinary scene, and you’ve been more or less unconscious ever since. Doctor Loudon has called several times.’

Lexi gazed round her again. ‘Whose room is this?’

‘It’s yours.’

‘Mine?’ Lexi sounded nervous.

‘Oh, you needn’t think you’re sharing it with my nephew,’ said Lady Honoria acidly. ‘He isn’t completely mad. He has a room at the opposite end of the house from this one.’

Lexi closed her eyes and frowned again at a vague memory of Richard’s voice, asking her to talk to him, and her own agitated refusal before seeking refuge in sleep again… She opened her eyes and looked at Lady Honoria. The old lady had sat down in the chair next to the bed, but her expression was not encouraging. Lexi said with a touch of defiance, ‘I expect you hate me for wanting to shoot Richard.’

‘Nothing so dramatic,’ Richard’s aunt replied. ‘You were obviously out of your mind at the time! But I don’t find it easy to forgive the fright you gave us. Richard is very dear to me, and I thought for a moment you were going to shoot.’

Lexi lay silent. ‘I should have!’ she said at last. ‘I planned it so carefully. I promised myself I would. But when it came to the point… Why couldn’t I?’

Lady Honoria got up. ‘Stop this nonsense at once, Lexi! You are no murderess. Of course you couldn’t kill Richard! Unless you stop talking such rubbish I shall get Murdie to come to sit with you. I’m not staying here to listen to any more of it.’

‘No! Don’t go! Please don’t go!’ Lexi grasped Lady Honoria’s hand. ‘I have to know. Is he…? Does he…? Are we really married?’

‘You are certainly married. But it would surprise no one if Richard sent you away. I should imagine that a wife’s threat to murder her husband would be unquestionable grounds for divorce. I for one wouldn’t even blame Richard if he sent you to a madhouse.’ Lady Honoria removed her hand from Lexi’s grip. ‘You certainly fooled me. I would have sworn you loved him.’

A tear rolled down Lexi’s cheek. ‘I…did…’ she whispered sadly. ‘It was all I ever wanted, to marry Richard. I loved him so much…’

Lady Honoria snorted scornfully. ‘A fine way you have of showing it!’ she said. ‘And a fine mess you’ve created, too! If you hated Richard so much, why didn’t you simply leave him alone, you stupid girl?’ She gazed angrily at Lexi for a moment, then went on, ‘There isn’t an eligible female in the county who wouldn’t have jumped at the chance of being Richard’s wife. Why the devil did he have to settle on you?’

Lexi shook her head. ‘I don’t know any more why Richard wanted to marry me. I don’t know anything any more!’

‘Well, I’ll tell you why I think he did!’ said Lady Honoria, unmoved by Lexi’s obvious distress. ‘It’s all of a piece with his present behaviour. Because he was sorry for you, that’s why! He thought he owed it to your family to protect you. He even set Rawdon on its feet again for your sake, and I dare swear that cost him a pretty penny!’ She ignored Lexi’s cry of protest and went on, ‘And what did you do in return? Threaten to shoot him! I don’t know what maggot got into that head of yours, Lexi Rawdon, but I hope you’re satisfied. You may not have managed to kill Richard, but you’ve certainly ruined his life—’ She stopped short, then went on, ‘To think that just two days ago we were all at his wedding, all so happy for him—safely home from the army, about to settle at last with his wife at Channings…’ She made a gesture of impatience. ‘Richard has asked me not to be unkind to you, but even if he’s a saint, I’m not! I can’t stay here—if I do, I’ll only say even more than I should…’

Lexi’s eyes were huge pools of darkness. ‘I’m sorry you’re so angry,’ she said, ‘but I didn’t want Richard’s pity. He’d have done better to save it for my father. You don’t understand.’

‘No, and I don’t suppose I ever will. Why this should happen to Richard of all people… How could you? How could you, Lexi?’ She stared at the girl in the bed for a moment, then shook her head and said, ‘It’s no use. Murdie will have to sit with you. I can’t.’

She went out and the door shut behind her. Lexi closed her eyes. She was trembling again. The feelings of panic and loss, which had plagued her ever since her world had turned upside down, returned in full force. Why had Richard asked her to marry him? At the time she had thought that he loved her as deeply as she had loved him….

She remembered the occasion with painful clarity. How foolish she had been! When Richard had come into the library at Rawdon, she was standing at the desk where she had found her father the day before, slumped over his papers. The papers still lay there in an untidy heap. She had been making an effort to gather them together, to put them into some sort of order, but tears had made her progress slow…

‘My poor girl! You shouldn’t be here alone.’

At the sound of Richard’s voice Lexi turned to him blindly, and he took her into his arms, holding her close, her head pressed against his chest. She felt safe, as if she had reached some kind of refuge. In the confusion and distress of the day before she had been aware of Richard’s presence, taking charge, issuing orders. He had made sure she was being looked after, but there had been no opportunity for them to talk.

He held her now, giving her time to recover a little, then led her to the fire. ‘You’re cold. When did you last have anything to eat?’

‘I don’t know. Does it matter?’

‘Of course it matters! Let me send for something.’

Richard waited till she had eaten a little of the food he ordered and drunk some wine. ‘Isn’t that better?’ he said. She nodded and he smiled, the special smile he seemed to keep for her alone, warm and affectionate. It worked its usual magic, and for a moment she forgot her heartache in its glow. He took her hands in his and held them in his own, gently warming them.

‘What were you doing when I came in?’ he asked after a moment.

‘I was…I was trying to sort out some of Papa’s papers.’

‘That was foolish,’ he said. ‘They would be better dealt with by your father’s lawyers. I’ll put them in some sort of order for you, and then you can leave everything to them. You need to rest.’

‘I can’t!’ she said. ‘If I don’t do something with them, Mark will think he has to. He was here this morning when I came in. I don’t blame him—he is the next in line, after all. But he is still a comparative stranger. And those papers were the last things…the last things Papa was reading when he…he died. I want to be the one to deal with them.’

‘Would you let me do it for you?’

She stared at him. ‘I would,’ she said slowly. ‘You were as close to Papa as anyone. But you’ve already done so much. And I have no real claim on you or your time. How could we explain it to Mark?’

‘Easily,’ he said, his grey eyes serious. ‘Because you’re wrong, Alexandra. You have every claim on my time and on everything else of mine.’

She looked at him, wide-eyed, uncertain of his meaning.

He went on, ‘I always wanted to marry you—your father knew that. And now I want us to marry as soon as it can be arranged. Will you? And will you trust me?’

Lexi did not hesitate. A flood of joy drowned her heartache and she threw herself into his arms again. ‘Richard! Oh, Richard! Of course I will! You know I will! I’ll marry you as soon as you like. But won’t we have to wait? The neighbours will be shocked… Papa’s death…’

‘They’ll get over it. Your father would have wanted you to be safe. If things had been different, you would have been my wife long ago—we both know that. And now you need someone to look after you, to keep you happy and secure. We could marry in a few weeks, if you agreed. The wedding would be a quiet one, of course. Do you mind that?’

‘Mind? Oh, no!’

‘Then say you agree. I swear you won’t regret it.’

‘Regret it? How could I possibly regret being married to you, Richard? I’ve wanted it all my life, I think!’

And after he had gone, taking the papers with him, she had been so happy even in the midst of all her grief. Richard had at last asked her to marry him. He loved her as she loved him…

Now, just a few weeks later, Lexi groaned and hid her face in the bedclothes. How foolish of her to have been so gullible! Of course Richard hadn’t loved her in the way she had loved him! He might have married her out of pity as his aunt thought, or perhaps it had been out of guilt, a last flicker of conscience. But one thing was quite certain. He couldn’t possibly have loved her.

She was surprised by the sharp pang this thought gave her—the final traces of illusion gone. How curious that it should hurt so much, after all the other things that had happened.

She turned restlessly in the bed. What did it matter what Richard had felt? She was living in a nightmare, married to a stranger. The Richard she had known and loved no longer existed…

It was too much. She closed her eyes again and escaped from the unbearable present into the past, a world where she had known the old Richard, the one who had meant so much to her.

Richard Deverell had been Johnny Rawdon’s friend before Alexandra was born, and, though they were very different in character—Johnny so extrovert and Richard always so quiet—they had remained friends ever since. Lexi’s earliest memories were of golden days of sunshine as she watched the two boys catching tadpoles or fishing in the lake at Rawdon, and her own cries of, ‘Wait for me! Wait for me!’ She fell into streams and out of trees, sank up to her knees in mud, and tripped over rocks, but she never complained except when they tried to go off on their own.

Over the years they got used to her copper head popping up wherever they went, and gradually took it on themselves to protect her from the worst of the tumbles and scrapes. In return she gave them her unstinted loyalty and devotion. The three children had been practically inseparable whenever they were free from tutors and governesses. They rode together, climbed trees together, fought and laughed together, spending long days out by the lake, or in the woods round Rawdon.

Everything had been so simple in their childhood. It had seemed to her then that this idyllic existence would last forever. But it couldn’t, of course. Things were changing all the time, and the greatest change came after Richard and Johnny had spent the Season of 1810 in London. When they came back to Somerset that summer they were dashing young blades, with no time for their old pursuits or Johnny’s unsophisticated little sister. The six years’ difference in age between them had become a chasm not to be bridged by persuasion, or tantrums, or anything else. Lexi was forced to watch from a distance as Richard and her brother flirted with the young ladies of the neighbourhood, took them riding or on the river, escorted them to the many picnics and dances arranged by their hopeful mamas. For a short time Lexi, bereft and isolated, thought her world had come to an end.

But, after a while, she started to derive a certain amount of malicious amusement from watching the efforts made by the young ladies to capture the two most eligible young men in the county. They met with little success. Johnny laughed and teased, and treated no one seriously. And though Richard was courteous to all, though he danced with one, appeared to be amused by another, listened attentively to a third, he remained throughout his cool, level-headed self, singling no one out for any particular attention. But strangely, as Lexi watched, her own perception of her childhood companion slowly changed. She gradually became just as intrigued as the rest by the slightly aloof manner he adopted in company, was just as fascinated as they all seemed to be with the charm of his slow smile, his lithe grace, the restrained power in his movements. The familiar image of the quiet boy of her childhood gradually faded, to be replaced with that of a very attractive man—attractive, and, underneath his quiet manner, very assured. Her feelings towards him changed in a way she found difficult to define, but they remained very possessive. With surprise, she realised that, whatever he was, boy or man, friend or eligible prize, Richard Deverell was hers. Had always been hers. Would always be hers. She was even sorry for the silly females who pursued him. Didn’t they know that Richard Deverell belonged to her? Lexi was so certain of this that one afternoon in August she told him so.

Lexi and Richard had left the horses tethered to a fence while they went down to the river to look at the otters who lived in its banks. For a while it was like old times, as they shared uncomplicated delight in the antics of the otter cub and talked of anything and everything that occurred to them.

‘Are you home for good now, Richard?’ Lexi asked.

‘I’m not sure. I might go into the Army for a while.’

‘The Army!’

‘It’s a way of seeing the world, and there’s plenty of adventure to be had, especially in Spain. Johnny is talking of it, too.’

‘Johnny? Papa would never let him go! He’s needed here at home. And so are you, Richard.’

‘Oh, come, Alexandra! Needed? You know very well that my father takes no pleasure in my company, and Channings is so well run it really has no need of me, either. No, I don’t think I should be missed.’ Richard spoke a touch bitterly and Lexi was silent for a moment. Then, making an effort to sound calm, she said in a small voice,

‘We would miss you, Richard…’

‘It would only be for two or three years—I don’t intend to make a career of it. But Johnny seems very set on the idea. I think he might go whatever your father says.’

‘Oh, if Johnny’s mind is made up, then Papa will give in. Johnny always gets his way in the end.’ She was silent for a moment, thinking of what it would mean to her father as well as herself. Then she said angrily, ‘My brother is such a clunch! He gets these ideas, and goes ahead without thinking of the consequences.’

‘And you don’t?’ asked Richard, looking at her with such quizzical affection that she had to laugh.

‘I know, I know! The Rawdons rush in without thinking. How often have I heard you say that? But Johnny’s much worse than I am, you know he is! It wouldn’t surprise me in the least if you had rescued him from any number of scrapes while you were both in London.’ She paused, and when she next spoke she sounded unusually bitter. ‘Now he wants to go into the Army, and he will. We all do our best to please Johnny, but he doesn’t care! He ploughs on quite merrily, not thinking of the unhappiness he leaves behind.’

‘You sound as if you don’t like your brother.’

‘I’m not sure I do at the moment.’ She looked up to see Richard frowning. She went on, ‘Oh, you needn’t worry. I may not like him just now, but I shall always love him. In spite of all his faults.’

‘Or perhaps even because of them,’ said Richard. ‘Because that’s the way he is. Isn’t that so?’ He smiled.

The smile did something to her. She suddenly felt absurdly happy, sure that Richard never smiled at any other girl in that particular teasing, affectionate way. The smile was for her alone and no one else. As he turned to help her over the stile at the end of the path, a sudden impulse stopped her from leaping down as she usually did. Instead, she stood on the step, rested her hands on his shoulders, and looked down at him with a grin.

‘Which of my faults do you love me for, Richard?’ she asked, tilting her head to one side, eyes alight with mischief, her hair falling over her shoulder in a mass of copper, almost touching his face.

His hands were at her waist, ready to jump her down, but he suddenly became very still. His grasp tightened, his eyes grew dark, and he wasn’t smiling any more. His gaze rested on her mouth… Lexi suddenly felt breathless, even nervous.

‘Richard?’ she said uncertainly.

It was just as suddenly over. He said something under his breath, then dropped his hands and shook his head. After a moment he said calmly and somewhat distantly, ‘I couldn’t possibly say. There are so many of them!’

His reaction disappointed her, and she felt an urge to disturb that calm self-possession again. She said, ‘Do you know, I thought just for a moment there you were going to kiss me. Did you want to?’

‘Of course not,’ he said with a flicker of anger. ‘What a ridiculous idea! You’re still a child, Alexandra.’

Stung, she replied, ‘I’m nearly sixteen. Not all that much younger than you! You never seemed to notice the difference in the old days!’

‘It wasn’t the same then. We were all of us children,’ he said curtly.

‘But…why didn’t you want to kiss me? Aren’t I pretty enough?’

‘You’re not old enough! Alexandra, if you were anything but a child you wouldn’t ask such questions! Not of anyone!’

‘I wouldn’t ask anyone else. I wouldn’t want anyone else to kiss me, Richard. Only you.’

He looked at her in exasperation, as if he wasn’t sure how to reply to this. Then he shook his head and said abruptly, ‘I suppose you think I’m flattered. But I’m not. You really don’t know anything at all about it, Alexandra. And, unless you want me to leave you here to go back by yourself, we’ll end this stupid conversation right now!’

He sounded as if he meant what he was saying. Lexi nodded.

‘Very well,’ she said. Then she threw him another glance full of mischief. ‘But I still think you wanted to kiss me. I suppose I’ll just have to wait till I’m older.’

He seemed to speak almost against his will. ‘It’s very likely that you won’t want me to kiss you then,’ he said.

‘Oh, yes, I will!’ Lexi said confidently. ‘And, what’s more, you’ll still want to kiss me, too. You’re mine, Richard Deverell! We belong to one another.’

For the rest of the summer, though Richard was perfectly amiable, he kept his distance, never showing by look or action that he thought of her as anything but a good companion, his best friend’s little sister. But Lexi lay awake at night, imagining the kiss he had denied her and fantasising about the future, and though it was never again referred to between them she never faltered in her conviction that he was hers.

She watched him with the other young ladies and was reassured. No rivals there, she thought with satisfaction. And next year he might consider her old enough… But in the end a greater and more powerful rival took Richard away from her. In the autumn he and Johnny announced that they were indeed going into the Army.

Nothing would deter them, certainly not Lexi’s protests. Not even Sir Jeremy Rawdon’s strenuous efforts could prevent his only son from embarking on such a dangerous career. Johnny was adamant. Richard was going, and so would he. It would be an adventure, a great lark.

‘But don’t you see how unhappy Papa is?’ Lexi cried one day. ‘How unhappy we both are! Why are you doing this to us?’

‘Because I want to! Two or three years in a decent regiment would be tremendous fun! I’ve enjoyed this summer, but I’m not ready to settle down yet! Besides, Richard is going. You don’t see his family making all this fuss.’

‘You know very well why that is so,’ said Lexi hotly. ‘Lord Deverell doesn’t care! He’s never taken the slightest interest in anything Richard does. It’s not surprising that his son feels no obligation to him. But Papa loves you, Johnny! You’re his only son!’

‘Oh, stop it! You’re a girl—you can’t possibly understand what it means. I don’t see why Papa is so worried. Nothing will happen to me. I’ll be back in a couple of years and ready to take on those damned obligations you both ram down my throat. Lexi, don’t look so worried! I’ll be all right—you’ll see.’

So in the end Sir Jeremy reluctantly gave in, and by the spring of 1811 Lieutenants Richard Deverell and Johnny Rawdon were serving under Wellington’s command in Spain. Johnny’s ‘couple of years’ stretched to three. The two friends did not finally return to England until the May of 1814—after Napoleon had been defeated and safely confined on Elba.

Perhaps she was the child Richard had called her, but, curiously, Lexi never doubted that Richard and Johnny would come back safely, was confident that the years would bring nothing but happiness. And, though she missed them, she was determined to make good use of her time in their absence. She had till then regarded the accomplishments expected of the daughter of a wealthy landowner—the ability to dress well, to dance gracefully, to sing, play and draw well—as a waste of time. But she now threw her considerable energy and talent into acquiring every social grace. When Richard returned he was to be astonished, overcome, at the change in her. He would find her irresistible.

Then, a few months before they were due to return, Lady Wroxford, her godmother, somewhat belatedly remembered a promise made long before to Lady Rawdon that Lexi should have a London season. So Lexi spent the first half of the year with Lady Wroxford in her house in Curzon Street, and was introduced to the polite world. To everyone’s surprise, including her own, she had a modest success. Her determination to learn how to enchant Richard Deverell on his return served her well in the critical world of the London ton, and she soon had a circle of admirers wherever she went.

Her godmother did more than just keep her promise. A woman of taste and wealth, she had taken delight in providing her protégée with a wardrobe of beautiful clothes that flattered and enhanced her unusual colouring. Unusual was a word frequently used of Lexi Rawdon. She had learned to control the impulsive ways and hot temper that went with her copper hair, had moderated her careless stride of the past into the decorous steps of a young lady of fashion, but traces of the old free grace and high spirits remained. She was not beautiful in the accepted sense, but her glorious hair and sparkling lavender-blue eyes made sure she was noticed, and her frank, open ways, her wit, her ready laughter, kept a constant supply of admirers round her. The fact that the Rawdons of Rawdon Hall were an old and wealthy family was, of course, an additional attraction. Soon Alexandra Rawdon’s name was on the list of the season’s most sought-after débutantes.

But though Lexi was always polite, she showed an indifference to flattery and admiration that the world found intriguing. The world didn’t realise—how could it?—that Miss Rawdon’s apparent lack of interest in her success was perfectly genuine. Though she was enjoying London life, it was merely an amusement, a distraction, while she waited for one man to return from the wars. Charming, well bred, wealthy, and seemingly not unduly eager to find a husband, Lexi was soon declared to be out of the usual run of débutantes, and most attractive. Before the season was very old she had received several flattering offers.

And she turned them all down. Lady Wroxford expostulated, accusing her of being difficult to please. Lexi listened meekly, but said nothing. How could she tell her kind godmother the truth? That she was waiting for one man to come to London? That only he, and no other, would ever please her?

Then at last Richard and Johnny arrived. They came back from Spain, bronzed, fit, no longer boys, but men, toughened by their experiences on the battlefields of Spain, and confident of their power. But to her they were still dear, still two of the three most important people in her world. For a few short months the future looked brilliant.

The spell of these happy memories was broken, as the door opened and Lexi was brought back from the past to the bedroom at Channings. Someone came in. It was probably Murdie, Lady Honoria’s maid, come to take her mistress’s place.

‘Alexandra?’

Not Murdie. Richard. No one else ever called her Alexandra in quite that way. Besides, she would know his voice anywhere, deep, calm, sometimes tender. Even though her own eyes were closed, she felt his grey eyes examining her, speculating… Her heart started thumping, but she held herself still, pretending to be in a deep sleep.

‘Alexandra, open your eyes. We must talk.’

Why could that voice still enchant her? The temptation to do as he said was almost irresistible, but she couldn’t, wouldn’t give in. Why didn’t he go away?

‘Did my aunt upset you again? She’s old, Alexandra. She can’t understand…’ His voice had a wry sort of humour in it as he added, ‘For that matter, nor can I. But I’m not as tired or as angry as she is. Don’t let her put you off. You might even feel better after we’ve talked. And sooner or later we shall have to put the pieces of our lives back together again.’

Put the pieces back together again? That would take a miracle! Lexi rather thought they were beyond repair. Still without opening her eyes, she turned her head away from him.

Richard waited for a moment. Alexandra was not asleep. He knew that. But though it was getting more and more urgent for him to talk to her, he was reluctant to force her before she was ready. The events of the past few months had brought her dangerously close to breakdown. He looked down at his wife. Her eyes were still determinedly shut, but the purple shadows surrounding them, and the hollows in her pale cheeks, showed how badly she needed this time of rest and recuperation.

Perhaps it would help to talk of happier times… He sat down by the bed and thought of her as he had seen her in a London ballroom when he and Johnny had come back from Spain in May 1814. The carelessly dressed child he had known in Somerset had turned into a glowing girl, poised and very much aware of her powers. He addressed the still figure in the bed.

‘Alexandra… Do you remember dancing with me in London? Johnny and I had just got back from France after our years in the Peninsula. Napoleon had been packed off to Elba and London was celebrating. Everyone said what a brilliant season it was. Do you remember? London was full of visitors—European royalty, diplomats and couriers, sightseers, and all sorts of hangers-on. There seemed to be far more of them than there were of the soldiers returning from the wars… Johnny and I were two of the soldiers, and I can tell you we felt somewhat outnumbered by all those civilians.’

He paused, but Alexandra gave no sign that she was listening. He went on, ‘I saw you first at the ball in Northumberland House, I remember. Johnny and I had arrived in London not long before, and had come there hoping to find you.’

Richard fell silent. The occasion was still vivid in his memory. He had seen Alexandra as soon as they had entered the ballroom, but it had taken Johnny a few minutes longer. The sight of his sister then had stopped him in his tracks.

‘There she is!’ he had said in amazement. ‘Over there. Good Lord, Dev, she looks stunning! I would never have imagined she’d turn out so well! Just look at her—if you can. She’s damned near surrounded!’ Richard remembered his own feelings as he looked at the laughing girl on the other side of the room. Tall and graceful, her hair twisted into a shining knot on top of her head, she looked completely self-possessed, and quite at home in the sophisticated world of London society. Though the smile was as enchanting as ever, she looked very different from the girl with the mane of copper hair who had stood on top of the stile and tempted him to kiss her almost four eventful years before. He could still remember the scent of that hair as it had brushed against his cheek, still recall the sensations aroused in him then…

‘We’d better go across before she sees us and comes rushing over,’ Johnny had said next. ‘She’s bound to be excited, but it would never do. Not in a ballroom.’

Richard had known Johnny’s sister better than Johnny had. He remembered saying wryly, ‘Alexandra knows we’re here already. She saw us the moment we came in—or very soon after.’

‘What?’

‘Your sister has grown up, my boy! She won’t come rushing over—she’s waiting for us to join her.’

‘Well, I’m damned! Come on, then!’

Now, more than a year later, sitting by Alexandra’s bed in the aftermath of the disastrous episode in the church, Richard was filled with regret. If only his father had been a more reasonable man… He could have asked Alexandra to marry him then and there, and if he had things might have turned out very differently for all of them. He shook his head impatiently and got up. ‘If only’, ‘could have’, if…if…if…what use was that? Going back was impossible. What was clear at present was that Alexandra was not going to acknowledge he was even there. He’d have to leave it for today. Tomorrow he would have a word with Dr Loudon and see what he had to say. Somehow or other they had to move on, attempt to make sense of this mess. She couldn’t escape into sleep forever.